The celebration had been brief.
The people of Evernight Citadel had rejoiced, clinging to their newfound freedom as though it would slip through their fingers at any moment. But Kael knew better. Victory was not the end—it was merely the beginning of another battle.
The morning after the Forsaken King's defeat, Kael stood on the ruined balcony of the Great Hall, gazing down at the city. Smoke still rose from shattered buildings, and the streets remained littered with debris. The scars of war ran deep, and despite the people's joy, fear still lingered beneath the surface.
This was not a kingdom waiting for its king.
It was a graveyard in need of healing.
The Weight of Leadership
"You look like a man who just got sentenced to death."
Kael didn't turn at the voice. Lela stood behind him, arms crossed, her expression somewhere between amusement and concern. She had changed out of her battle-worn armor, now dressed in a dark tunic and leather vest, though Gáe Bolg still rested at her side.
"I might as well have," Kael muttered, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "I don't know how to rule, Lela. I was a warrior, not a king."
She stepped forward, leaning against the railing. "Kings don't always start as rulers. Some start as warriors. Some start as fools. Some start as both."
Kael let out a dry chuckle. "And which one am I?"
Lela smirked. "Depends on the day."
He sighed, glancing down at the streets. "The people expect leadership. I can fight battles, but I don't know how to rebuild a kingdom. How do I bring order to a land that's been broken for years?"
Lela was silent for a moment before speaking. "You start by doing what you've always done—fight. But this time, the enemy isn't a monster or a tyrant. It's the chaos left behind."
Kael absorbed her words. The battlefield had changed, but the war was far from over.
A City in Ashes
Later that day, Kael called a meeting in the ruined Great Hall, where the remaining leaders of Evernight had gathered. Among them were General Hadrian, a grizzled veteran with a stern gaze, Lady Ilara, the last surviving noblewoman of the city, and several captains who had led the resistance.
Kael stood at the head of the table, the weight of their stares pressing down on him.
"The Forsaken King is dead. His forces are scattered. But our land is not safe. We have starving citizens, a city in ruins, and enemies who may try to strike now that our defenses are weak." His voice was steady, but the uncertainty still gnawed at him. "I need solutions. Not just for today—but for the future."
Hadrian leaned forward, his battle-worn hands resting on the table. "First priority should be securing the city. We need patrols, scouts, and a proper chain of command. With the Forsaken King gone, bandits and warlords will seek to claim the ruins."
Kael nodded. "Then you'll oversee the defense of the city. Reinforce the gates. Restore the watchtowers. We cannot let anyone take advantage of our weakness."
Hadrian grunted in approval.
Lady Ilara spoke next, her voice composed but urgent. "The people are weary. Many have lost their homes, their families. They need food, shelter, and hope."
Kael exhaled. "Then we begin restoration immediately. Gather all able-bodied survivors—we need workers to clear the rubble and rebuild."
Ilara inclined her head. "I will organize the efforts, but we need resources. The city's stores are nearly depleted, and the farms beyond the walls were destroyed in the war."
Loosie, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke.
"Then we need to trade," he said, leaning back with a smirk. "The Forsaken King cut this city off from the world, but now that he's gone, the old trade routes should be open again. There are other cities, other rulers—some might be willing to supply us. For a price, of course."
Kael considered this. "Then I'll send envoys to negotiate alliances." He turned to Ilara. "Gather whatever maps we have left. We need to know who might be willing to aid us—and who might be our next enemy."
The meeting continued for hours, discussing strategy, logistics, and survival. By the end, Kael felt no less burdened, but at least now, he had a plan.
Whispers of a New Threat
As night fell, Kael stood alone in the Great Hall, staring at the crumbling walls. The glow of torches flickered, casting long shadows over the war-torn chamber.
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You're working yourself to death already?"
Kael turned to see Mary, her white outfit still pristine despite the dust and blood of the past days.
He sighed. "There's too much to do. Too much at stake."
Mary tilted her head. "Then let me take some of that burden. We all will."
Kael nodded, grateful for her presence. But before he could respond, the doors burst open, and a scout rushed in, his face pale.
"My Lord—urgent news!"
Kael stiffened. "Speak."
The scout swallowed hard before delivering the words that would shatter the fragile peace they had begun to build.
"A force is gathering beyond the eastern border. An army—marching under a banner we've never seen before. They're headed straight for us."
Silence.
Kael's fingers instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword.
The war was not over.
It had only just begun.